It's All Their Fault
by The Writer Of Lucifenia
Summary: Oneshot. When Winter travels to Beacon to check on Weiss, the sisters get in an argument, but will the black and white picture of faunus be brought into a grey area?
1. Chapter 1

My idea of Winter.

It's All Their Fault by The Writer Of Lucifenia

...

It was a rather bright day at Beacon academy, and since finals were creeping up, the school was bustling with activity, students scurrying around to classes. A flood of panicked first years came flying out of the front door just as a super stretch black limo pulled up in front of the school. The driver opened the door for a young woman to exit. She was clad in a white pencil skirt, white high heels, and a light pink tank top with a white bolero jacket over top of it. The woman had neatly combed shoulder length white hair in a bobby pins and a pair of dull grey eyes. She seemed slightly spacey, but maintained a regal posture and walked towards the academy. Scanning the crowd with a cold stare scanning the students around her. Finally she spotted the person she was looking for and smiled like the Cheshire cat. She walked over to a white haired teenager and grabbed her.

"GAH! The nerve of- What are you doing here!?"

"Weissy, tell me you've been using that soap I've sent you. The one made in Mistrol. Mistrol was voted the cleanest kingdom, and I don't trust the fact people from Vacuo are around you. You don't know where they've been and for all we know they could have fleas!" Winter exclaimed, examining Weiss before forcing Weiss' jaw open. "You _have_ been brushing well, right? Tell me it's true. There's 95% bacteria on your tongue if you are human and not from Vacuo, you need to be brushing fifteen times a day, every day, and rinse with dust fluoride at least twenty times. Floss every five minutes, understand?" Winter ranted.

"Yuhuh," Weiss replied, her speech muffled by Winter's hands.

"Weiss dear, you haven't been kissing any faunus, or Vacuo natives, or faunus Vacuo natives, right?" Winter began to freak out. "Why those filthy faunus carrying rabies and Vacuo people are just plain disgusting!"

"No, of course not!" Weiss exclaimed.

"Good, I was worried for a while. You know who to call if a faunus touches you, right?" Winter asked.

"1800 carpet cleaners, then the pound," Weiss replied in a emotionless tone.

"Good girl. I'm glad you're prepared. You never know these days. Is your space clean? No dirt, no cobwebs, no mice?" Winter asked.

"Of course it is, my partner's isn't, but mine is," Weiss explained.

"Don't tell me this partner of yours is going to interfere with your wedding plans," Winter gave Weiss a stern look.

"My partner's a childish, female dunce," Weiss narrowed her eyes at Winter.

"Is she clean? Does she shower regularly? Please tell me she's not from Vacuo, or a faunus, or a faunus from Vacuo," Winter begged.

"She's relatively clean, she showers often, and she's a human girl from Patch," Weiss told her sister.

"Where?" Winter asked.

"You know that colony we lost to Vale during the Faunus War?" Weiss asked.

"Yeah, those Valish SNAKES!" Winter cried.

"That's Patch."

"What an awful name. Either way, I'm here for a cleanliness inspection. Please lead me to your dorm room. Hopefully they are as clean as the ones a Atlas Academy for the Elite and More Privileged," Winter said.

"You mean the school of idiots who've never heard of a goth before?" Weiss rolled her eyes. "Where the girls are mean and the boys are stupid."

"Weiss, that was the most high end school father could put you in, it was absolutely wonderful when I attended," Winter tried to convince.

"Maybe that's because you fit in with everyone," Weiss huffed. "After all, you weren't goth new girl nobody could relate to."

"Well maybe you shouldn't have worn so much eyeliner, Weiss," Winter pointed out.

"Excuse me, those girls layered on the makeup THICK. It just wasn't on the eyeliner, I was a light weight compared to them," Weiss complained, glaring at Winter as they walked down the halls.

"Well you also kept doing weird things with your hair, like what possessed you to take a weed wacker to your head then dye it green?" Winter questioned.

"It wasn't a weed wacker, it was crafty scissors you use to make certain indents on paper and the green was epic," Weiss crossed her arms.

"Whatever you did, you're hair was a mess," Winter commented. "And don't get me started on the rainbow micro braids and the hot pink hair with the ultra short bangs. "

"They grew back," Weiss defended.

"You looked like a two year old cut your hair."

"A very tasteful two year old," Weiss said. Winter face palmed as they entered the dorm.

"Weiss, sweetie, I worry for you, I very much worry," Winter lied a hand on Weiss' shoulder.

"I know, you paid for my braces, and I thank you for that," Weiss said as she headed over the set her book bag on her neatly made bed. Winter went into shock.

"WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS!" Winter exclaimed.

"Oh, the beds. Funny story, our leader thought it'd be cool to have bunk beds," Weiss shrugged.

"Those look like a hazard to your health," Winter scolded. "It's almost as unhealthy as that one faunus girl you used to spend so much time with as a child. What was her name, Net, Lana?"

"La-Nel, her name was La-Nel and she's gone now anyways so why do you care?" Weiss scowled.

"Because she could've been a part of the dreaded White Fang and killed you behind your back," Winter reasoned.

"We were six years old, the worst she could do was tattle tale on me over something," Weiss rolled her eyes.

"Or bitten you and give you rabies!" Winter exclaimed.

"She didn't have rabies, Winter! Not all faunus have rabies!" Weiss argued.

"What is it about rabies?" Blake walked into the dorm.

"Who's this?" Winter demanded.

"My teammate Blake. Blake, this is my sister Winter," Weiss introduced.

"Hello," Blake said shortly. "Hey, weren't you the heire-"

"Yes, but I made some foolish decisions so Weiss got stuck with the job. I'm preparing her for her new job by mentoring her and training her in all the essential arts. Painting, fencing, violin, piano, harpsichord, harp, flute, guitar, ballroom dancing, ballet, acting, singing, party planning, and knitting. Just the bare minimum since Weiss is so unmotivated for anything," Winter explained.

"Unmotivated? Weiss? You're joking right?" Blake chuckled.

"She's the laziest person I know next to that one faunus maid," Winter said.

"You mean Brenda? She's not lazy, she's got a kid," Weiss said.

"Well she should be cooking instead of chatting with the kid," Winter said coldly.

"It's bad enough the poor girl's being raised in the kitchen and you want her mother to ignore her completely? Think of how you'd feel if you were her," Weiss reasoned.

"I'd launch myself off the roof for being the scum of Remnant," Winter spat.

"I'm leaving, this is not a conversation I want to be a part of," Blake turned around to leave.

"Surely you don't agree with my crazy faunus sympathizing sister here?" Winter protested.

"Weiss is right, that child shouldn't be growing up in a kitchen," Blake hissed.

"Well then let the White Fang butcher you both when you reach out to pet the cute little faunus monster," Winter huffed.

"Weiss, I'm going to the library, I'll be back when she's gone," Blake said as she exited the dorm.

"Winter, you scared Blake away!" Weiss exclaimed.

"Weiss, I don't feel you should be around people who support faunus rights and faunus sympathizers. Even if you can find one kind faunus out of a million evil ones, the bad's going to outnumber the good, which won't last long. You saw what the White Fang did to Lana-"

"La-Nel."  
"Whatever her name was, when she refused to join them. What did you say you identified her by? A necklace? That's it," Winter finished.

"Yeah, it was the matching necklaces we got on the sixth year anniversary of the day we first met," Weiss twiddled her thumbs. "In the shape of a cute little apple."

"They'll do the same if not worse to you, you can't trust faunus-kind. They are just too dangerous. I wish it wasn't so, but it's the truth," Winter explained.

"But Winter, there's more good than you think. I've met several wonderful faunus here who'd never hurt me," Weiss reasoned.

"You think they'll never hurt you," Winter corrected.

"No, they'd never hurt me! Not one! Blake wouldn't hurt me! Sun wouldn't hurt me! Velvet wouldn't hurt me! You're too ignorant and to afraid to look outside of your little bubble to see the good faunus aren't so minimal! You're to ignorant! Too selfish!" Weiss yelled before storming off out to the park. Winter ran after Weiss as fast as she could in heels.

"Weiss! Come on, I'm only doing what's best for you!" Winter chased after Weiss, eventually grabbing her hand in the hall. "It was the horrible faunus' fault Father came home furious every day. It was their fault for his drunken behavior. It was all their fault he never had the heart to treat you civilly."

"And it's La-Nel's fault I'm still alive. It her fault I didn't give up back in middle school. It's her fault I learned to care for other people. It's Blake's fault for teaching me to respect all races no matter what. It's Blake's fault I can look past a pair of ears upon one's head. It's all their fault I have the sympathy to feed a starving faunus child on the streets when I see one. You're right, Winter, it's all their fault."


	2. AN

Hello, everyone, I know you are expecting Kibo, but this is actually Chiyo(Kibo's sister), AKA Wolf Cubby Cutie. I wasn't going to do this, but I know that Kibo would probably have updated her stories and replied to people who messaged her by now. She's currently in the hospital and cannot respond or write. I'm sorry. I'm hoping she'll get better soon, let's all cross our fingers. She gave me her password and told me to do this, so I didn't break in :) Sorry again.

\- Chiyo


	3. AN - RIP Kibo

A/N - I hate to inform you that Kibo (The Writer Of Lucifenia) has passed on. She died today, actually. Kibo Brent - 4/11/2001-7/2/2015.

As for the future of her account, well, she wouldn't want it to be left neglected. She asked me to continue producing material for her account, or at the very least finish any in-progress stories. That means Cowardly Montblanc will be continued, as for A Tear Stained Cloak To Match A Tear Stain Face, I don't know its fate. I helped her come up with that one, but at the moment, it is a little too close to what has happened with Kibo, with a less happier ending, that I don't know if I can write it. I'll try, but no guarantees.

Kibo was a good person. In all honesty, I didn't know her for very long. We were friends, we met at a swim-meet. Later, I was adopted into her family, she did everything she could to make sure I was comfortable. She was a good older sister, even if she wasn't one for very long. Kibo had a passion for telling stories, and she helped me discover that I too had the same passion. We had a lot of fun bouncing ideas off each other and writing fanfictions together. She really loved writing for you guys, getting feedback, and just sharing her work in general. Aside from being a writer, she was a good friend. Clingy as all get out, but good none the less. She used to get so happy over silly stuff and just start giggling out of nowhere. It was awkward, but kinda cute too. I don't know what happened to her. She seemed so happy last month, I don't know what changed.

I will be writing a story of this account in her memory, and another on my account (Wolf Cubby Cutie). The one in my account with her dedication in the description will be a retelling of the last idea we came up with together.

I'm sorry to be the barer of bad news once more.

RIP sis.

-Chiyo


	4. I'm so sorry

I have a confession to make. I lied to you. All of you, and it was wrong. I don't expect anyone to ever forgive me, what I did was both uncalled for and childish. The truth is, I'm just one girl, my name is Hope. Yeah, I know, my name is stupid, you can see why I'd change it online, but _that_ sure did wonders. So yeah, Kibo is me, but so is Chiyo, so I'm not dead. Why did I decide to fake my death? Well, I'm and idiot first and foremost.

The extended reason is kinda weird. When I first made this account, I was a very different person. Imagine your typical home schooled kid, but give them weird a obsessive personality. That was me. I was naive beyond belief and really, just a pain in the ass. I know now that God doesn't give a shit about us, I was too blind to open my eyes and see that back then. I was really sensitive about everything (I still am to a certain extent) and I got picked on a lot by my friends, who really just wanted someone to take out their frustrations on. When I started the Writer Of Lucifenia, I took on a new identity, to try and get away from myself. I've never liked myself, I still don't. Trying to become someone else is something I keep trying to do, and keep failing at. The person I made, was far from me. I was struggling to accept myself. I guess in a way fanfiction fast tracked and helped the problem. I'm bisexual, but coming from a Christian house hold, that's generally a no-no. I'm always anxious, always upset, even when I shouldn't be. I hoped to be accepted online, and I guess I was, but I wasn't being accepted as Hope. I felt like my old life, my old mistakes, myself was haunting me, laying on me like heavy chains. I thought maybe it was my account, for some stupid reason, so I made the Wolf Cubby Cutie, but I still had Writer Of Lucifenia. I was still dealing with depression, and it got worse progressively.

I had it all planned out. My parents were at church, I had the house to myself. I thought I had the bravery to just end it all, but in the end, I am and always will be a coward. The really stupid idea that if I killed myself online, I could pull myself back together and break away popped into my head. I thought maybe it'd be like a snake shedding its old skin. So I pretended to die. At the end of the day, it was a lie, but I was dead on the inside.

It was childish, foolish, and over all retarded. I realize that, and I want to offer up my deepest apologies to anyone I might have hurt. I don't expect to be forgiven, or for anyone to continue following me, but I'd rather come clean with the truth to try and preserve any smidge of honor I may still have. I was wrong, and I'm so sorry. I feel awful about doing this, so no more lies.

My name is Hope. I'm fourteen years old, and I love to write. I try to seem strong, but I'm a weak coward. All I've ever wanted was to be accepted, to have someone pull me into their arms and tell me it was ok. I know I can't have that, but it's a pretty little thought. I'm broken, what once was can't be fixed, but I never had much of a chance anyways, so it doesn't matter.

I'm sorry for being so horrible and lying.


End file.
